


i've got my ticket (for the long way 'round)

by kat777



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Crack, F/M, Pokemon Journey, Sisters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-18
Updated: 2015-12-15
Packaged: 2018-05-02 06:07:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5237216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kat777/pseuds/kat777
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"This isn't fair! You let Robb go when he turned sixteen!" Arya argued, looking for all the world as if she wanted to stomp her foot.</p>
<p>"Robb had Jon with him," Ned pointed out.</p>
<p>"I'll have Nymeria with me!"</p>
<p>Cat's mouth was set in a firm line as she insisted, "A Pokemon doesn't count." </p>
<p>"My friend Mycah—"</p>
<p>"It has to be an adult, it's far more dangerous these days than it was when Robb went. Your father and I can't spare the time this summer, nor can Brienne, nor Jory. Old Nan isn't up to the journey anymore, Syrio Forel won't be back from Braavos until the fall and Septa Mordane—" She caught sight of the face her youngest daughter made. "Exactly. So you'll have to wait until next year, Arya, and that is final!"</p>
<p>It was Bran who saved the day—or ruined it, depending on who you asked.</p>
<p>As Arya opened her mouth to protest her mother's verdict, he said, "Mom, if she can't go without adult supervision... Why not have Sansa go with her?"</p>
<p>.</p>
<p>OR, all the Starks (plus family friend Jon Snow) have an Eeveelution, Arya plans to take on all eight Gym Leaders and the Pokemon League, and Sansa is absolutely NOT falling for Jon Snow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lost

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't mean to start another Jon/Sansa fic, but this idea has been plaguing me for weeks now and it's like 4 AM, so... YOLO.
> 
> No joke, the word doc for this is titled Wacky Jon/Sansa Pokemon Adventures. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own ASOIAF or GoT. I also don't own Pokemon. Title of the fic is from Cups by Anna Kendrick.

“I can’t believe you got us lost!”

Sansa took a deep breath and reminded herself that Arya was her one and only sister in the whole wide world, no matter the make-believe games she’d played with Jeyne Poole when they were children.

“We’re not lost,” she said, once she could finally trust herself to keep her voice even. “We just need to backtrack to that fork in the path—”

“And then what?” Arya demanded. “The other way just leads deeper into the forest!”

“No, it doesn’t.” A quick glance to the left showed Sansa that Lady and Nymeria had taken advantage of their break and were nipping at each other playfully, utterly unconcerned by the argument. _I am not going to ruin their fun,_ she told herself _. I am calm. I am peaceful. I am the very embodiment of tranquility_.

“Yes, it does!”

“No, it doesn’t. I can see why you’d think that, but it actually leads—”

“Bullshit! You got us stuck in the middle of nowhere! If I keep following you, we’re going to end up boarding the train to the abyss of no return!”

_I am the stillness of a lake on a breezeless day._

“Arya, we’re not stuck in the middle of nowhere and we’re not going to end up in an abyss. I triple-checked the map in that Pokemon Center before we left Highgarden, I _promise_. If you just calm down, we can—”

“Calm down? CALM DOWN? I have been putting up with you bossing me around for WEEKS and I am SICK of it!” Ayra raged. Sansa thought she glimpsed a couple of Pidgeys and Rattatas darting through the trees out of the corner of her eye. Fleeing the scene. Smart. “It’s like you think that just because Mom and Dad wouldn’t let me go by myself, that somehow means they put you in charge! You’re always telling me what to do!”

_I am the untouched snow that blankets the ground after a storm._

In a shrill voice that Sansa strongly felt didn’t sound like her at all, Arya mimicked, “You can’t fight Margaery with your Frogadier, Arya, her Roserade will destroy you! Don’t feed your Espeon that, Arya, it’ll make her slower!” She dropped the fake high-pitch to rant further, “I _know_ that water sucks against grass, but I heard Tyrell had a ground type! And maybe Nymeria _likes_ Tamato berries! Ever think of that, you Muk-butt?”

_I am—_

“I am not a Muk-butt!” Sansa exploded, because Arya was, after all, her one and only sister in the whole wide world. No one else could get under her skin in quite the same way. (Then again, no one else had ever compared her to literal sludge.) “You think I _wanted_ to come? You think I volunteered to spend my summer babysitting you while you play Miss Grown-Up Trainer? I could be on vacation with Jeyne right now!”

“Doing what, dressing your Sylveon up like she’s a doll? Well don’t let me stop you! You’re welcome to leave anytime, and when summer’s over I’ll come home as the Pokemon League Champion and you’ll be the beauty contest winner! I’m sure Mom and Dad will be _so proud_ of your collection of fancy ribbons!”

The level of sarcasm Arya managed to inject into her tone was actually pretty impressive, but there was no way Sansa was going to admit to that, so instead she shot back, “Better first-place ribbons than a couple of rusty old badges!”

“THEY’RE NOT RUSTY!”

“What’s not rusty?” an unfamiliar male voice asked from somewhere behind them.

Sansa whirled around, her cry of alarm bringing Lady to her side in an instant. Nymeria moved between Arya and the newcomer, lips pulled back in a snarl.

“Whoa!” The guy held up his hands. “No need for that. Ghost is back in Riverrun with Robb, and I’d like to think they’d all be pretty disappointed if my throat was ripped out.”

Nymeria immediately relaxed her stance. It took Arya a second to put the pieces together, and another to throw herself forward for a hug.

“Jon?” Sansa hazarded a guess, a beat late. In her defense, he didn’t look much like the Jon she’d last seen five years ago. He looked…

“Hi, Sansa,” he said, smiling at her over Arya’s shoulder.

_Oh._

_Oh, no._


	2. Found

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter Arya originally mentioned she had a Feraligatr. I changed this to a Croconaw because I figured that with only 2 badges, Arya probably wouldn’t have a fully evolved stage-three Pokemon. Then I changed it to Frogadier because I realized…a ninja-frog with water/dark type? Totally made for Arya Stark. So I got rid of Croconaw because Arya can’t have two water types, her team has gotta be _balanced_. And I couldn’t just have her stick it in the PC, because Arya Stark would _never_.
> 
> Anyways... WARNING for mentions of Littlefinger's creepy behaviour toward Sansa, who in this fic is 18 and technically an adult, but it's still creepy.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Jon said, as he unlocked the door to Robb’s apartment and held it open for them. “You had to fight _three different Gym Leaders_ to get the Stone badge?”

“Four, actually. I would beat one and then another would complain that it didn’t count because _they_ were the real leader, so I had to face them, too. They were all awful, to be honest. I literally beat them with my Eevee and a Froakie,” Arya said, accepting the gesture without a fuss. Jon wasn’t like all the men she and her sister had encountered on their journey. Those men were only polite because they wanted something in return—a thank you in the form of a smile, or a kiss, or a tumble in bed—and they grew frosty and resentful when they didn’t get it. Jon would’ve held the door open for anyone, and couldn’t care less whether or not he was acknowledged for it.

“They all had different types,” Sansa added. “Sweetrobin used flying, Petyr Baelish used poison, Aunt Lysa used dual water/flying, and Harrold Hardyng used rock.”

_Speaking of pervert men…_ “Littlefinger was a creep. I hope the brat kicks him out like he said he would.”

“Don’t call our cousin a brat!” Sansa said, at the same time Jon asked, “What do you mean?”

“What do you mean, what do I mean?”

Jon frowned at her like he knew she was stalling. “I mean, why do you call him a creep?”

Arya exchanged a glance with Sansa. For all that she’d wanted to throttle her sister when they’d been lost in the forest together (and they HAD been lost, no matter what Sansa said), she knew they were on the same wave-length right now. No way were they going to inform Jon that their aunt’s new husband had told Sansa he’d always wanted a daughter like her, accidentally called her by her mother’s name three times, and offered to let her stay for the rest of the summer in the room right next to his private office. Not to mention the cold smile he’d given Arya when he told her she looked _so_ like her father.

Between all of that, their aunt’s sour looks, their cousin’s temper tantrums, and Harry the Arse’s arrogance, the sisters had been so glad to leave the Eyrie that they’d managed to go a whole three days without arguing.

“It was his smile, wasn’t it? I thought it was a bit off, too,” Sansa covered for them. “I think he spends too much time with his poison Pokemon and they’re rubbing off on him.”

“Oh.” The furrow in Jon’s brow disappeared. “Still, what a way to earn your first badge… I hope you had better luck in Highgarden.”

Arya immediately seized the opportunity to steer the conversation away from Littlefinger, launching into a play-by-play of her battle with Margaery.

“—and then she sent out her Sudowoodo, which I wasn’t expecting _at all_ , though I guess it fits with the theme since it’s a tree… Anyways, I was about to panic since, you know, Arcanine isn’t exactly an ideal choice to take on a rock type unless it knows earthquake or dig, which mine doesn't. And I couldn’t switch to Nymeria, because stupid Parasect had put her to sleep with spore and I was out of awakenings…  But then I remembered that I’d brought Frogadier with me, despite some _really bad_ _advice_ from a _certain someone_ —” Ignoring the stink eye her sister gave her, Arya continued, “—because I’d heard a rumour that Tyrell had a Sandslash to trim her flowers and bushes and stuff. How you mix up a Sandslash and a Sudowoodo, I have no idea, but the point is that because of the rumour, I brought a water type with me and I was able to take out her last team member with water pulse—”

“I think he gets the gist of it, Arya,” Sansa interrupted. “No need to talk his ear off.”

It wasn’t a reprimand so much as it was an opening for Arya to actually take a breath, which she gratefully did.

“I don’t mind.” There was a smile on Jon’s face as he spoke the words, fond and slightly perplexed. He looked like he’d forgotten all about creepy wanna-be Gym Leaders. _Mission accomplished!_

“So where’s Robb?” Sansa peered around as if expecting their brother to pop up out of nowhere.

“He and Grey Wind are at the Pokemon Center with Ghost,” Jon explained. “You saw that ruined apartment on the next block, right? It caught fire last week and we were helping to get people out, but we missed a kid hiding in her closet. Ghost went back in for her and inhaled too much smoke.”

He noticed the horrified looks on their faces and hurried to reassure them, “He’s fine, and so is the little girl, don’t worry! Robb called me earlier today and told me Ghost was cleared to leave the center later. I'm going over there in a few minutes to pick him up.”

Arya barely waited for Jon to finish his sentence before asking, "Can we come, too? To see Ghost?" 

"'Course you can. He'll be happy to see you guys again, especially his sisters." He scratched Nymeria behind her ears and smiled at Lady, then looked back at their trainers. "And I'm sure you've both missed your brother."

"We've missed you, too," Sansa blurted out before Arya could.

For a moment Jon seemed surprised, but then his smile turned shy. Sansa smiled back just as shyly.

Arya did not smile. Instead, she looked between her sister and the man who might as well have been her big brother, frowning. 

_What the hell is this?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies if you're a fan of poison type... I didn't mean to taint that with Petyr's grossness.
> 
> Next chapter, Stark reunion/showdown as narrated by Jon Snow.


	3. Reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I lied, there's no showdown this chapter... Next chapter.
> 
> Anyways, thank you guys so much for reading, and for the kudos and comments :)

Just as Jon had predicted, Ghost was thrilled to see his sisters. Lady and Nymeria had still been Eevees the last time he had seen them, but he had no trouble recognizing them. Ghost was at Nymeria’s side barely a second after she got through the door, and he didn’t even acknowledge Jon until he’d finished nuzzling her and Lady, and received sufficient petting and cooing from Arya and Sansa.

“Hello to you, too,” he said to Ghost, a mock scowl on his face, but the innocent look he got in return made it impossible to keep up the act. “Where’re Robb and Grey Wind, buddy?”

Ghost shook his head vigorously from side to side, and Jon’s lips twitched. His Umbreon never made a sound, but he always managed to get his point across in some way.

“Typical Robb,” Arya scoffed, but she was bouncing on the balls of her feet, craning her neck as she tried to see into rooms on the other side of the center.

A nurse came up to them then, and pulled Jon aside. She gave him the full rundown on his Pokemon’s health, which was really just a repeat of what Robb had told him over the phone—Ghost was almost good as new, though he shouldn’t be getting into any intense battles for a while—but he listened carefully all the same. He thanked her and rejoined the group, only to find Sansa had disappeared.

“Front desk,” Arya said before he could ask, and before he could look for himself, Sansa was back.

“We just missed them, apparently,” she reported. “Robb was called away on official gym business.”

“I still find it kinda weird to think of him as a Gym Leader,” Arya confessed. “I mean, I know he’s good. He always has been, but… It’s _Robb_. Our _brother_.”

Jon found himself laughing, maybe because he understood how bizarre it was, or maybe because stumbling across Arya and Sansa arguing in the forest earlier had been just as surreal. “When he decided to stay in Riverrun to train with your uncle rather than try for more badges, I teased him like you wouldn’t believe. Of course, I ended up pledging myself to the Night’s Watch barely a month later, and he wouldn’t let me hear the end of it... Sending me emails every other week asking me if I’d frozen my junk off yet…”

He trailed off, still chuckling as he remembered typing replies filled with swearing and rude suggestions for what Robb could do with _his_ junk. He still thought the blender one was his most creative achievement to date.

“That sounds like Robb,” Sansa said, smiling at him so brightly it left him tongue-tied for some reason. She’d always been pretty, but aside from his eyes occasionally being drawn to her red hair, he’d never taken much note of it when they were younger. He would’ve never anticipated a simple smile from her rendering him speechless like this, and yet…

Luckily, he was spared from having to come up with words as Arya grew impatient again. “We should head over to see him.”

“You just want to battle him, don’t you?” her sister teased.

Having regaining the ability to speak, Jon added, “Gotta beat ‘em all, right?”

Arya ignored them, instead turning to Nymeria, Lady, and Ghost. “Come on, let’s go.”

She stormed out, the Pokemon following obediently after her, and Jon and Sansa grinned at each other. Then he gestured for her to go through the automatic doors first, but she tucked her arm through his and pulled him along beside her.

Arya was grumbling under her breath when they caught up with her. Jon thought he heard some of what she was muttering (“…can't believe this…next thing I know…be using pet names…”) but he couldn't make sense of the bits and pieces and decided he must be imagining them.

By the time the gym was in sight, Arya was so clearly excited she couldn’t even pretend to be irritated anymore.

“It’s been a year since he and the Blackfish visited to tell us Uncle Edmure was retiring and Robb would be his successor, right? I wonder how many trainers have challenged him since then…” she mused.

“About a year,” Sansa agreed, “and I’d guess lots. The River badge is number three, and most trainers who decide to quit get at least four.”

“Robb and I did the smart thing,” Jon said dryly. “We quit _before_ badge number four, so we never had to step foot on the Iron Islands.”

“Well, I’m not going to quit. Not ever.” And with that, Arya straightened her shoulders and marched into the gym, her head held high.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I first thought up this fic, I was gonna give Sansa Espeon and Jon Umbreon for shippy reasons. Then I was gonna give Sansa Espeon and Arya Umbreon because of the whole 'different as the sun and the moon' thing... But then I looked at Sylveon with its ribbons and its Pokedex entry, which describes it as giving off a soothing aura to stop fights, and going on walks with its beloved trainer...and I was like, if this isn't fate, I don't know what is. Plus, Espeon is described in its Pokedex entry as being extremely loyal to its trainer, and Umbreon is described as doing things _silently_. Fate, I'm telling you.
> 
>  _Definitely_ a Stark showdown next chapter...as narrated by Sansa Stark.


	4. River

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is way longer than I thought it would be, and filled with more Jon/Sansa interaction than I intended. And info-dumping. Next chapter is an Arya chapter, so there should be less shippyness and more Arya Stark the Pokemon Trainer!ness, with a side of sibling bickering.

Robb and Grey Wind were just as delighted to see them as Ghost had been, and Robb was positively gleeful when he found out Arya wanted to challenge him.

“Well, I’m glad _one_ of my siblings has _finally_ come knocking! I always knew this day would come,” he boasted as soon as the hugs were out of the way, and Sansa couldn’t help but smirk.

“Maybe I just didn’t want to deal with your theatrics.”

“And to think, all this time I believed you just hated the thought of all the camping you would have to do! Now that you’ve left home just because _Arya_ wanted some _company_ , I see that _I_ simply wasn’t worth the _inconvenience_ —”

“Case in point,” she interrupted.

Grinning, Arya jumped in, “She only came because Mom said I couldn’t go otherwise, stupid. She didn’t want to listen to me whining all summer. ”

“Absolutely,” Sansa agreed immediately, and so her siblings turned their attention to discussing the details of their upcoming fight.

Not Jon, though. He leaned closer to murmur in her ear, “I don’t know if I believe you. I haven’t heard Arya whine all that much, but I'm pretty sure avoiding it isn’t worth three months of bug pokemon crawling all over your sleeping bag every other night.”

Sansa told herself that the blush heating up her cheeks was not due to his proximity, but instead the implication that she’d agreed to come along on this trip for mushy, sentimental reasons.

“Oh, shut up,” she muttered back, and when he smiled and nudged her gently in return, she admitted to herself that maybe it was a little of both.

* * *

“Robb’s going to be unbearable when he loses, isn’t he?” Sansa whispered to Jon as they took their seats on the sidelines, Lady and Ghost settling at their feet, while in the arena Arya and Robb got ready for their battle.

“Completely,” Jon agreed. “Though it might be a close match. Arya doesn’t have any grass or electric pokemon, does she?”

“No, she doesn’t. We both caught water types in the Riverlands on our way to the Eyrie, and fire types in the Crownlands on our way to Highgarden, but Arya didn’t bother catching a grass type.”

“Arya got a Froakie and a Growlithe, right?” When she nodded, he continued, “What did you get? Did you catch anything in the Reach?”

“A Piplup and a Vulpix. I didn’t actually catch anything there, but I kinda made friends with the Gym Leader, Margaery, and she gave me a Chikorita for some reason.”

Jon nearly choked when she added that last part. Before she knew it he was doubled-over, laughing so hard Arya and Robb paused their back-and-forth insults to stare at him. Lady looked at him, too, and whined in concern.

“What? What’s so funny?” she demanded. It was so strange. It felt like Jon had smiled and laughed more today than he had in their entire childhood. _Maybe I just never saw it because he never had much reason to smile or laugh around me. Maybe he’s changed even more than I thought. O_ _r maybe he's just in a really good mood from seeing his ‘little sister’ after all these years and this isn't his usual behaviour._ Sansa found herself thinking she wouldn’t mind either way—she'd long since decided sincerity trumped constantly trying to prove you were having a good time, even if you weren't.

“You’ll— You’ll see in a few minutes,” he gasped out, waving a hand at Arya and Robb dismissively before patting Lady's head to soothe her.

Her siblings went back to their posturing, and Sansa considering prodding further but instead asked, “What about you? Any Pokemon joined our courageous hero on your team?” 

She dropped a kiss on Ghost’s nose and he nuzzled at her happily in response. The warmth in Jon's eyes as he watched the exchange had her ducking her head, suddenly shy, but after a moment she lifted it again.

“A few. When we first left Winterfell, before we headed for the Vale, we went to see the Wall—that’s when I started thinking about joining the Night’s Watch. Anyways, I caught a Murkrow around there, and a Sneasel. In the Riverlands I caught a Slowbro, but we ran into a girl in the city who wanted to trade a Seadra for it. I wasn’t going to, but Slowbro seemed to like her a lot, so…” He shrugged. “As soon as the trade was over both Pokemon evolved somehow and I ended up with a Kingdra. We stopped in King's Landing on our way to Highgarden, just to check it out, and some guy with a bunch of spider pokemon gave me a Charmander. He told me to come back when it reached its final form, wouldn't take no for an answer. He was really cryptic about the whole thing. Then at some point after I joined the Watch, Commander Mormont gave me a sword pokemon, Honedge. Most of them have evolved since then…”

Arya and Robb were finally sending out their first Pokemon, and Jon trailed off, looking like he couldn’t believe he’d spoken so much. But Sansa didn’t want to let the conversation end. She wanted to know more. _  
_

“You have a lot of dark types,” she ventured, tentative now. Maybe he just didn’t _want_ to talk anymore.

Jon kept his eyes on Nymeria and Robb’s Poliwrath, but he still replied, which had to count for something. “Yeah, the Watch is really big on them. It's actually mandatory to have at least one. There’s plenty near the Wall, and they’re good against ghost types.”

“Are there a lot of ghost pokemon up there, too?” As she spoke, Nymeria attacked her opponent with confusion, almost knocking it out in one shot.

“Beyond the Wall, tons. The Free Folk—you’d know them as Wildlings—use them. ” Robb had his Poliwrath counter with bubblebeam, which did a decent amount of damage. “For the longest time, the Night’s Watch was so concerned with fending them off that we made ourselves vulnerable to an even greater threat.”

He fell silent abruptly, like he hadn’t meant to say that.

“But not anymore?” she pushed. An easier question than the obvious one, more likely to be answered.

“Not anymore.” He glanced at her briefly before looking back to where Robb was withdrawing his unconscious Poliwrath.

Robb sent out a Totodile next, and in a very transparent attempt to change the subject, Jon said, “That Totodile is the very first Pokemon Robb ever caught, but it still hasn't evolved. Guess it doesn't want to."

Sansa took the hint and let it be. "Probably a good thing. He's only allowed a couple stage-two or stage-three Pokemon, right? Most trainers don't have many fully evolved team members at this point." 

"Yeah, but he's told me it doesn't bother him nearly as much as not being able to use Grey Wind does."

It seemed to bother Grey Wind, too. He paced restlessly from his spot behind Robb as Arya called back her Espeon, wounded from her opponent's bite, and switched to Frogadier.

Sansa and Jon were quiet for a while as Frogadier slowly but surely took Totodile down, but Robb's next choice made Sansa laugh out loud.

"Wow," she managed to splutter through her giggles. "He's _really_ bitter about not being able to use his Jolteon, huh?"

"I wouldn't say bitter," Jon said, grinning as Arya swore furiously at her brother, who just smirked in response. "I think he thought it was funny, though. They wouldn't let him use his electric pokemon, so he went out and caught one of the only dual water/electric types in existence."

Arya didn't even bother to attack. Instead she used her turn to heal Nymeria, who she sent out when her Frogadier inevitably fainted. It might've been a close fight under normal circumstances, but Nymeria got lucky and put her opponent in a state of confusion with the first blow. The Chinchou ended up doing far less damage to her than it did to itself. 

Robb, down to his last Pokemon, was no longer smirking. In fact, he kept a remarkably straight face as he said, "Ludicolo, you're up."

Sansa blinked as some pineapple creature with a hat vaguely resembling a lily pad started dancing. "What the hell is that?"

Jon snickered. " _That_ would be the water/grass pokemon Margaery so generously bestowed upon your brother after he earned the Flower badge."

"Wait… Eww, did she _flirt_ with him?" A thought struck her. "Was she flirting with _me_?"

"Probably. You didn't notice?"

"No." She wrinkled her nose. "I can't believe she flirted with my _brother_. Gross."

"Feigning disgust to cover up your heartbreak… I thought you were classier than that, Sansa," Jon said, shaking his head.

Sansa shoved at his shoulder in retaliation, but secretly it gave her a thrill to have him tease her like this. He'd never done it when they were younger, probably because she would've scolded him for an hour if he had.

"So…I guess you guys will be off to the Iron Islands after this so Arya can get her next badge?" He suddenly wouldn't look at her as he spoke. His leg started bouncing up and down, and his hand moved to scratch Ghost behind the ears.

"It's up to Arya, but most likely." She watched him closely, wondering where this was going.

"Commander Mormont's orders were for me to pay a visit to all eight Gym Leaders, and then the Elite Four and the Champion in King's Landing…" 

He'd told her and her sister that already, back when he found them in the forest and they wanted to know what he was doing away from the Wall. His orders were the reason he'd gone to see Robb, and the reason he'd left his still injured Umbreon in the care of the nurses in order to travel to the Vale for a while. Before returning to Riverrun, he'd made a detour into the forest in search of Ghost's favourite berries…and there he'd run into Sansa and Arya.

"Yes?" she encouraged.

"Well…at some point I'm going to have to visit the Iron Islands…" 

Sansa almost prompted him again, but then he continued, "It's not exactly an appealing prospect, you know? So I was thinking…maybe it would be more fun if I went with you and Arya?"

"Oh!" Her hand shot out to grab his. "Oh, you should! You have to!"

Her excitement made Jon laugh, and the sound was filled with relief and a little embarrassment. "Guess we have to ask the boss first, huh?"

"She'll say yes." It wasn't even a question, really. As soon as the idea was presented to her, Arya would _demand_ he come with them.

Jon's hand shifted in hers, twining their fingers together, and he had no trouble meeting her gaze now.

"Hey, idiots!"

They broke apart immediately, turning to find Arya glaring at them while Robb just stared. Once she had their attention, Arya held up her arm. There was a vibrant blue badge in her hand, glinting in the sunlight that streamed through the gym's windows.

They'd missed her victory, Sansa realized.  _And she's never going to let us forget it!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For like a whole five minutes when plotting this fic, I genuinely considered giving Arya a Rapidash instead of an Arcanine, because she loves horseback riding. Then I remembered that Rapidash has _actual fire_ for its mane and tail instead of hair, and I decided against it. You know, for safety reasons.
> 
> I think Jolteon might fit Rickon a little better than it does Robb, but I also took into account the names... A Jolteon named 'Shaggydog' seemed kinda weird to me, lol, and I had a harder time picturing the other Eeveelutions being named 'Grey Wind'.
> 
> Meanwhile, Jon's over there with his crow pokemon...and his sea-dragon king...and his sword pokemon that will eventually evolve into a ROYAL sword pokemon...and a fire-breathing lizard... I'm so subtle. If this fic was in first person and solely from Jon's POV, the title would literally be, 'My Life is One Big Cosmic Joke, an Autobiography by Jon Snow'.


	5. Sail

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've been planning a battle for next chapter, and planning Pokemon battles is surprisingly difficult when you want the characters involved to actually have a strategy that goes beyond 'attack over and over with my pokemon's strongest move until the other pokemon faints.'

It took them two days, six hours and thirty-nine minutes to reach the town of Banefort, and from there they got tickets to sail to Pyke. Arya’s anger didn’t last even half that long, though she liked to think that in most other circumstances she would’ve been able to keep it up for at least another day.

It was just too hard to glower and sulk when she was _finally_ getting to spend time with Jon again, after three long years of only being able to talk to each other through email. _That’s still way less time than Sansa went without so much as saying hello to him,_ Arya thought with satisfaction. _They can flirt all they like now, but when this is over they’re just going to end up ignoring each other for another five years. It probably won’t even bother them._

Okay, so maybe Arya was still a little annoyed that they’d missed her awesome win against Robb’s Ludicolo. And maybe she was a bit scared that they’d get so lost in each other she’d be stuck as the third wheel. (And maybe, deep down, she was worried that it _would_ bother them when they inevitably ended up never speaking to each other again.)

Still! She shook off her doubts. Jon was with her, the sun was shining, she was on her way to the next gym badge—things were looking pretty good. Too good for her to brood, that was for sure. Even if she _had_ wanted to ride the Wailord instead of taking the boat. Which reminded her…

“I can’t believe you made us pass up the opportunity to ride a giant whale,” Arya complained.

…it had been a whole ten minutes since she’d last mentioned it. If she whined enough, maybe her sister would let her take the nine hundred pound water taxi on the way back.

“I’ve told you a million times!” Sansa looked like she was contemplating pushing Arya overboard. “There are a lot of dangerous Pokemon in the water—”

“—which is why we should’ve done it my way! Wailord could totally beat them all up!”

Jon was glancing back-and-forth between them warily. Arya didn’t know what he’d expected when he’d asked to come along with them, seeing as he’d witnessed plenty of their fights before. Maybe he’d been lulled into a false sense of security by the frosty silence that had lasted their entire first day travelling together. He’d probably assumed they had matured too much to resort to petty bickering, or something equally daft.

“I’m sure it could, but we’d likely fall off in the process—”

“So we’d get a little wet! You might be a prissy Muk-butt, but Jon and I don’t care about stuff like that!”

Jon stared at her in horror. As if there was anything to be alarmed about! All he had to do was take Arya’s side, Sansa would stomp off into the main cabin, and he and Arya could have a good laugh all the way to shore. Then on the way back, they would get to ride _a giant whale_.

“Oh?” Sansa turned to Jon, an eerily calm expression on her face. “Do you agree with her?”

Arya wasn’t a mind reader, but you didn’t need to be one to figure out that Jon’s thought process right now was likely a string of swear words.

“Well, uh…” His eyes darted from one sister to the other. “The woman _did_ have a permit to take people across on her Wailord. She couldn’t have gotten one unless she met safety regulations, right?”

Now Sansa looked like she wanted to push Jon off the boat.

“But,” he hurried to continue, “Sansa is right, too. It’s better not to take the chance. I mean, there are Sharpedos in the water, and—and, uh, Tentacruels, probably—”

Sansa did not seem impressed, and Arya couldn’t really blame her.

“I, uh, also think ‘prissy Muk-butt’ is a bit of a contradictory insult?” he offered, a last ditch-effort to salvage the situation.

Arya couldn’t help it; she’d forgotten how hopeless Jon was with girls. She burst out laughing, and Sansa kept up her stern expression for a whole thirty seconds before joining her.

Jon stared at them as they giggled helplessly and clutched at each other for balance.

“I don’t understand either of you,” he said, frowning. Pouting, almost. “I’m going inside.”

He stomped off into the cabin without a backward glance, and they just laughed even harder, all the way to shore.

_Maybe I’m not going to be stuck as the third wheel. Maybe we’ll all just take turns._

* * *

Jon finally left the cabin after the captain docked the boat, and when Arya and Sansa tried to offer (not very sincere) apologies, he just shrugged and smiled at them.

Before they could ask someone to point them in the direction of the gym, a man approached them. He looked a little older than Jon, who he took no notice of, too busy eyeing up Arya before turning his full attention to Sansa.

Arya was expecting the first thing out of his mouth to be a gross pick-up line that would have all three of them glaring at him, but instead he said, “Sansa and Arya Stark, right? Robb’s sisters?”

“Yes,” Sansa said, taken aback, and Arya spoke right on her heels, “And this is Jon Snow, Robb’s _best friend_.”

“Yeah, Robb mentioned him.” The guy threw the briefest of glances at Jon before turning back to the girls, though Jon didn’t seem particularly bothered to be dismissed so easily.

“Theon Greyjoy,” the stranger introduced himself, smiling as Sansa shook his hand with obvious reluctance. Obvious to her sister, anyway. Arya also thought his smile was kinda sleazy. “I met Robb last year when he came looking for a water/electric type. We got to be friends and kept in touch when he went back to the mainland. He sent me an email a couple days ago saying you three would show up soon, and that one of his sisters wanted to challenge our Gym Leader?”

He hadn’t taken his eyes off Sansa once throughout his entire explanation. It was very clear which sister he thought was collecting the badges.

“That would be _me_ ,” Arya said, and Nymeria snarled at him for emphasis.

Theon’s eyes locked on the Espeon. “Uh…”

“If you’re a Greyjoy, you must be related to the Gym Leader here, Balon,” Sansa intervened, even going so far as to fake a charming smile.

Theon did not look charmed. Strange. “He’s my father.”

Sansa’s smile faltered slightly, but she soldiered on, “We’re looking forward to meeting him.”

“That’s too bad,” Theon said flatly, “because he died two weeks ago.”

“Oh.” She was clearly at a loss for words.

Arya stared at Jon and tried to plead with him telepathically, _Do something!_

“We’re very sorry for your loss,” Jon said sincerely. “How did he die?”

“Fell off a bridge that he tried to cross in the middle of a storm. Stubborn bastard,” Theon mumbled the last part under his breath.

Arya couldn’t tell if he was genuinely sad over his father’s death or not, but she could see plain as day that he didn’t want to talk about it anymore, so she blurted out, “Who’s the Gym Leader now, then? I want to fight them as soon as possible.”

“ _Arya!_ ” Sansa hissed, a sound so familiar to Arya that she could've picked it out even in a crowded room.

But Theon seemed relieved rather than offended. “Well, that’s actually why I waited here for you guys. My Uncle Euron was the one who took over, but you can’t challenge him right now…because someone else already has.”

“That won’t take long, will it?” Jon asked, laying a hand on Arya’s shoulder as if he could sense her excitement deflating.

Theon went back to being a cocky asshole, and looking down his nose at Jon as he answered, “ _Normally_ it wouldn’t, but this isn’t a challenge for the _badge_. It’s for the position of Gym Leader of the Iron Islands.”

Arya realized her mouth was hanging open and quickly closed it. “ _What_? Who was it?”

“Asha Greyjoy,” Theon said. “My sister.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greyjoy showdown next chapter, I'm guessing no one's rooting for Euron.


	6. Pyke

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This got kinda long (relatively speaking) and I thought about splitting it into two chapters, but I decided a while ago that I want to have exactly 19 chapters, so I'm gonna try to stick to that.

Jon’s mother loved to travel, so much so that she made a living out of it. She wrote articles for magazines to help attract tourists to the cities she visited, she’d published an in-depth travel guide for every region in Westeros (unless one counted beyond the Wall) and for some of the Free Cities, and she’d even based a couple of her novels on the trips she’d made to foreign places. She could make even the dreariest looking town seem like the perfect vacation destination.

He’d always been skeptical of the praise she heaped on the Iron Islands—she’d described them several times as “magical”—and now that he’d been stuck on Pyke for three days straight, Jon was growing suspicious that his mother actually made her living by lying her ass off.

Maybe it would’ve been different if they’d been able to hang out by the water, or go diving in the sea to check out the beautiful coral reefs his mother always talked about, or even just leave the small cabin they’d rented for their stay, but they couldn’t. Because, as Lyanna Snow had only ever stated as a footnote in tiny print, it stormed here almost _constantly_.

They’d only gone out once since the thunder started, and that was because they’d heard whining coming from somewhere outside and thought it might be an abandoned or injured pokemon. Arya had been the one to find the tiny Pichu, and they’d spent several hours in the Pokemon Center waiting for it to be healed before they took it back to the cabin.

Thirty-two hours later, Jon thought he would’ve had an easier time taking on the Pokemon League than prying the Pichu away from Arya, because it seemed to think she was its mother. Not to mention Nymeria, who treated the Pichu like it had hatched from an egg she'd lain.

“What am I going to do with this thing?” Arya asked, though she’d scowled fiercely at a nurse who'd dared to suggest they leave the Pichu at the center with him. “It’s a _baby_ , I can’t have it fight! And what if it never wants to go in a Poke Ball?”

“Nymeria never goes in a Poke Ball,” Jon pointed out. “Neither does Ghost, or Lady, or Grey Wind, or—”

“Yeah, I got it, thanks.” She threw him a dirty look.

“I’m sure the Greyjoys will agree on terms for the battle soon. Then you’ll be able to face whoever wins,” Jon said soothingly, knowing that to be the real reason behind her bad mood. “Maybe the storm will even clear up, and we can go diving to see the coral reefs before we leave. My mother’s always raving about them.”

Sansa looked up from her sewing. Her Piplup and her Chikorita had evolved on the way to Banefort, so she was making a new neckerchief for one and a new scarf for the other. “You’re remembering wrong. Your mother said the coral reefs are in the Sea of Dorne, and the only interesting thing you’ll find diving around here is a bunch of shipwrecks.”

Arya immediately perked up. “Cool!”

Jon was far less enthusiastic. “I’m glad I didn’t know that before we sailed here.” No wonder Sansa had refused to ride the Wailord.

“You’re both babies. This Pichu is probably braver than both of you combined—” Arya began, but a knock at the door interrupted her.

It was Theon. “You said you wanted to watch the fight,” he addressed Arya. “Well, they’re ready.”

* * *

On their way to the gym, Theon explained the rules of the match. “No items allowed during the battle, and they flip a coin to see who goes first. Both trainers have to use the same steel-type pokemon, the challenger gets to choose which one. Both pokemon know exactly the same moves to start with, but the trainers have half an hour to replace as many moves as they want with TMs from a list they agree on beforehand.”

“What’s the purpose of that?” Sansa asked. “It sounds like they don’t even have to put any effort into raising the pokemon.”

“A battle of wits?” Arya suggested, and Jon thought he understood. The trainers had the exact same resources available to them, and whoever had the better strategy would most likely win.

When they entered the arena, Theon directed them to sit high up in the stands where a small audience had already formed. “You don’t want to be close to the action if they start using electric moves.”

There were two men talking in low voices down below, and Theon said they were his uncles. “The one with the eye-patch is Euron. The other is Victarion. Asha asked for his support when they were first trying to decide who our father’s successor would be, but he backed Euron instead.”

It didn’t take a genius to figure out why. As soon as Asha stepped into the arena, Victarion loudly proclaimed that she must “cease this nonsense at once!” because they couldn’t possibly have _a woman_ as Gym Leader. Euron made no attempts to reprimand him, and instead told Asha that she should “listen to your uncle” in the most patronizing tone Jon had ever heard.

While Arya stood up and booed both men, Jon muttered disbelievingly, “What century are these guys living in?”

“Not this one, that’s for sure,” Sansa whispered back. “I mean, how do they think they can justify barring women from trying for Gym Leader here when _the Elite Four_ is almost entirely made up of women?”

“They’re idiots,” Arya concluded as she sat down again.

“Victarion is,” Theon told them, “but Euron isn’t. He's actually really smart. Asha has her work cut out for her.”

Asha told her uncles where they could shove their misogynistic bullshit, and so Victarion went ahead with the coin toss, which Euron won. Both trainers sent out a Bronzong.

“I was expecting, like, a Metagross,” Arya said with obvious disappointment. When Euron commanded his Bronzong to use hypnosis, she looked like she wanted to stand up and boo him again. “This isn’t going to be any fun if one of them is asleep the entire time!”

Asha’s Bronzong slept for two turns while Euron had his own power up its special attack and defense with calm mind. It was clear from the smug smile on his face that he thought he’d already won.

Then Asha’s Bronzong woke up. “Use imprison,” she directed it, and Euron’s smile wavered.

“Shadow ball,” he said, finally getting around to attacking. Nothing happened. He tried again with hypnosis, and again nothing happened.

“Double team!” He was growing desperate now.

But Asha was prepared for that, too. “Feint attack,” she countered.

All Euron could do was use calm mind or double team over and over, neither of which had any effect on the move Asha was using to whittle away his health, until his Bronzong finally fainted.

Sansa raised an eyebrow at Theon. “You said your uncle is smart, but it looks to me like he was too dumb to take your sister seriously.”

Theon didn’t answer. There was no denying Euron had underestimated Asha, and she’d used it against him.

“You know, uncle, since I’m feeling generous… I’ll give you the entire weekend to pack up your stuff,” Asha offered, and Jon couldn’t blame her for smirking vindictively.

“This isn’t over,” he snarled, and Victarion said, “Well, actually, Euron—”

“This isn’t over!” he repeated. “Because my brother is going to challenge you for the position! Aren’t you, Victarion?”

“Er—”

“Challenge accepted!” Asha shouted. Some people in the audience had responded to her victory with disgruntled murmurs, but they cheered along with the rest now. “Pick your pokemon!”

“Right now?” Victarion’s eyes darted around nervously, but when he took in all the expectant faces, he puffed out his chest and said, “Fine! I choose Steelix!”

Euron looked less than pleased by the choice, but he said, “If you’re so keen to get this over with, niece, then why not reduce the time limit for choosing TMs? Say, to five minutes?”

“Deal!”

Jon had a feeling that Euron didn't trust his brother to come up with a decent strategy no matter how long he had to think it over. That was why he'd wanted to lower the time limit, to put Asha closer to his brother's level.

It didn’t make a difference. Victarion won the coin toss, and he used explosion on the first turn. His Steelix fainted while Asha’s was left dangling by a thread, making her the winner.

There was a deafening silence, which Theon broke by insisting, “I don’t think I’m _really_ related to him. He was probably switched at birth. _I_ was probably switched at birth. I don’t belong with these people.”

Down below, Victarion was frowning as he asked his brother something. Euron shrieked back, “NO, you idiot! Steelix is only protected against _other_ pokemon using explosion! If Steelix uses explosion _itself_ it FAINTS! You absolute MORON!”

He stormed off, his brother trailing after him. Asha put her hands on her hips, stared up at the crowd and called out, “Anyone else wanna fight me?”

She didn’t seem like she expected an answer, but she got one.

“I DO!” Arya yelled, clambering onto the bench she’d been sitting on and waving her arms.

And that was how Arya got the Pyke badge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jon is a liar, Arya totally had to fight Asha's Metagross. 
> 
> And since I didn't explain it in the actual chapter... Imprison is a move that prevents the opponent from using any move that your pokemon also knows. Basically, Euron's pokemon couldn't use shadow ball or hypnosis because Asha's pokemon also knew shadow ball and hypnosis. Since Euron's pokemon didn't have any other move that dealt damage, he was screwed. 
> 
> Next chapter, they move on to the Westerlands for badge number 5.


	7. Hill

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote Lyanna 'Stark' last chapter, but in this AU: a) she's not closely related to Ned; and b) being illegitimate isn't really a big deal and Jon would have his mother's last name. So I went back and changed it to Lyanna 'Snow'.
> 
> Also, Cersei and Jaime are not siblings in this AU, but they're distantly related, and both their last names are still Lannister.

If Sansa lived to be a hundred, she would _never_ admit that she had dragged her feet the entire way to Casterly Rock. Arya had been just as reluctant to reach the castle, though most people wouldn’t have been able to tell.

Things had been going so well, too. Jon had asked for a private word with Asha, as she was the new Gym Leader, to discuss official Night’s Watch business, and when he’d returned they’d talked about what they would do next. Jon had said he’d already visited the Gym Leaders Arya had defeated, with the exception of Margaery, and so he might as well just keep travelling with them.

Sansa had been quietly excited and relieved, while Arya had made no effort to hide her delight over the news. But then the discussion had turned to where they should go next, and they’d remembered that badge number five was in the Westerlands.

With the Lannisters.

Jon had been very obviously baffled by their sudden change in attitude, and had eventually asked about it. Sansa had vehemently denied that anything was wrong, and Arya had nearly bitten his head off for asking. He hadn’t brought it up again.

Now they were finally here, and all that was left to do—

“Did you want to knock, or should I…” Jon trailed off at the fierce glare Arya sent him over her shoulder.

Sansa reached out to grasp her sister’s hand, and Arya looked at her. _You can do this,_ Sansa tried to say with her eyes. We _can do this. We can face them._

It must’ve worked at least a little, because Arya squeezed her hand before letting go and raising her fist to the door.

She banged on it twice, then waited.

It wasn’t Joffrey who opened the door, thankfully. (Not that Sansa had really expected him to go to the _tremendous hassle_ of actually greeting his guests.) It wasn’t his mother, either, or his step-father. It was Tyrion, Joffrey’s uncle. She’d never had much to do with Tyrion, nor had Arya, but Sansa found him infinitely preferable to any of his family members besides Myrcella and Tommen.

“The Stark sisters,” he said, staring up at them with his mismatched eyes. He looked past them. “And Jon Snow, member of the Night’s Watch. Good to see you all again.”

“You as well, sir,” Jon responded for all of them.

“I heard you three would be coming around sooner or later,” Tyrion said as he gestured for them to come in. “Which of you wants the badge, again?”

Arya grimaced as she answered, “Me. I have to fight a double battle, right? Against your sister and her husband?”

He chose his words with obvious care. “Jaime is…out, at the moment.”

“And you’re taking his place?” she asked hopefully. He sent her an apologetic look, and she groaned. “Great. So I have to face Cersei _and_ the demon spawn she calls her child?”

Tyrion laughed at that, though he tried to turn it into a cough. “Let me ask you, how many Pokemon do you have? To battle with, that is.”

Her Pichu had evolved as soon as the island of Pyke became a mere speck on the horizon behind them, so Arya said, “Four.”

“Well, I’d borrow a couple from your sister or Jon Snow, if I were you.” Sansa thought it was kind of weird how he kept using Jon’s full name, but it didn’t seem to bother Jon himself, so she shrugged off her vague concern. “Or even have one of them fight alongside you, three Pokemon each."

"I can do that? And I'd still get a badge?"

"You'd both get a badge," he corrected. Then he told them he would get everything set up while she thought over her decision.

Arya seemed torn, and Jon promised her, “I’m happy to help you, no matter which way you choose.”

“Me too,” Sansa said, though she doubted her sister would ask for her help. Jon had been training his team at the Wall for years, while Lady had been the only member of Sansa’s team up until a few weeks ago. “Whatever you need.”

“Thanks, you guys.”

They were silent the whole twenty minutes it took for Tyrion to come back.

“They’re waiting for you in the arena. Have you made your choice?”

“I have.” She took a deep breath, straightened her shoulders, and said, “My sister is going to battle with me.”

Sansa looked from Arya to Jon, who had an encouraging smile on his face, then back to her sister. “But, I’m not—”

“ _Sansa_ ,” Arya interrupted her. “This is your fight, too. You know it is.”

 _She’s right,_ Sansa realized. _Joffrey, Cersei… They hurt both of us. They tried to force us to release Lady and Nymeria into the wild. Cersei almost blackmailed our father into stepping down as Gym Leader of the North and pledging himself to the Night’s Watch. Joffrey bullied Arya and her friend Mycah, and he…he made me feel stupid, and ugly, and worthless. He pretended to be nice, he pretended to care about me, but as soon as he didn’t need me anymore, he thought he could treat me however he wanted…_

“We’ll beat them,” she said, with far more confidence than she felt. “We have to.”

* * *

The year after Robb and Jon had left home, Cat and Ned had decided that their daughters needed a change in scenery until the school year started or they were going to drive everyone up the wall with their arguing. So Ned had brought Sansa and Arya along to King's Landing, where he was to attend a summer-long meeting of Gym Leaders—which had included Cersei and Jaime Lannister, who were accompanied by what had felt like every living member of the Lannister family.

That was how Sansa had met Joffrey. At the time, she'd thought him handsome, his smile breathtaking. Looking at him now, as he stood on the other side of the arena with his mother, both of them smirking at her and Arya like they didn't stand a chance at winning...

 _Worm lips,_ was all she could think, though she could've filled a book with all the things about Joffrey that repulsed her far more than his appearance.  _I kissed worm lips._

If she thought about it like that, it was a funny memory rather than an embarrassing and uncomfortable one.

If she thought about it like that, he was someone to laugh at rather than someone who'd tried to tear her down to build himself up.

She kept that idea in her head the entire battle. _He's just someone to laugh at._ When he asked her if she wouldn't rather just go home and play with her dolls.  _Worm lips._ When Cersei explained the rules of the match slowly like Sansa and Arya were too stupid to understand. _Imagine the sour expression she'll have on her face when we take her down!_ When Joffrey had his Raticate use frustration on her Bayleef over and over until it fainted. _E_ _ven his own Pokemon hates him._

Sansa wasn't used to fighting like this. Encounters with wild Pokemon didn't compare, and battles with her friends—and on rare occasions her siblings—had always been for fun. There'd been no adrenaline rush when her Eevee had tussled with Jeyne's Oshawott. Not like there was now. Everything was happening so fast, and before she knew it all four of them were down to their last Pokemon.

Lady and Nymeria versus Joffrey's Stantler and Cersei's Slaking.  _That's going to be a problem._  Not the Stantler, but the Slaking. It was huge, had good defense and plenty of health, _and_ it hit like a truck. But it also spent every other turn lazing about, and Sansa wondered why Cersei had chosen it out of all the normal types she could've picked instead.

"Joffrey, use skill swap," Cersei urged her son.  _And then she'll be able to attack every turn, and Joffrey will swap with either Lady or Nymeria and one of them will be forced to sit around half the battle doing absolutely nothing!_ _  
_

Fortunately for Sansa and Arya, Joffrey's Stantler did not actually know skill swap. "I replaced it with frustration," he said with borderline indifference, totally oblivious to his mother's rage.

"I told you to keep it! It's part of our strategy!"

That made Joffrey snap. "No, it's part of _your_ strategy that you made with that man you expect me to call 'Father'! Well, I'm not going to do everything you say like he did! I can win with my _own_ strategy!"

The only strategy Sansa had seen from him so far was using frustration over and over again, but apparently he had another. While Cersei had her Slaking use body slam on Nymeria, Joffrey had his Stantler disable Lady's moonblast.  _They could've used that turn to knock either Arya or I out of the fight, but they're too angry at each other._

Between the two of them, Arya and Sansa had managed to bring Stantler down to a quarter of its original health last turn. This turn Arya finished it off with psychic, leaving Cersei as their only opponent. Joffrey was furious, but there was nothing he could do besides hurl insults at everyone from Arya to his mother to Tyrion, who'd watched the battle in silence with Jon from the stands.

Now it was Sansa’s turn, and she could barely hear herself think over the sound of her own heartbeat. Cersei's Slaking knew earthquake, and if she got a chance to use it they were toast. Moonblast was disabled, but Lady had another attack that she'd learned from a TM. The problem was that when the Hound had given Sansa that TM, he'd told her it was a normal type move, and despite what she'd originally thought Lady didn't seem to _be_ a normal type.

Sansa didn’t know what type she was, because before her Eevee had evolved no one had ever even heard of a Sylveon. _It was the same for Jon’s Umbreon and Arya’s Espeon. We all thought our Eevees would chose one of the elemental stones, or either the ice or moss rock. Instead Ghost evolved in the middle of the night, Nymeria in the day, and Lady…_

She remembered it clearly. Joffrey’s true nature had reared its ugly head halfway through their stay in King’s Landing, and the very next morning Lady had evolved into her final form.  _He was calmer after that, as long as Lady was around. She was protecting me somehow… She's always protected me. It's the same with Arya and Nymeria._ Littlefinger had been angry at Arya for earning the stone badge, but when he'd taken a threatening step towards her, Nymeria had evolved into a snarling Espeon. She'd used confusion without even being told to, and it had blasted him backwards…  _  
_

"Lady," Sansa said. "Use return on Slaking." Cersei laughed at her, but Sansa ignored it. She'd never used return before, but she trusted her Lady. 

And she was right to. The attack knocked Slaking out cold in one hit, bringing Cersei's amusement to an abrupt end.

Tyrion broke his silence and drawled, "Well, Jon Snow, it appears we have our winners…and our losers. I don't know about you, but _I_ am truly just _beyond shocked_ by this outcome." 

If anyone replied to him, Sansa didn't hear it, because Arya chose that moment to tackle her with a hug. 

"That was awesome!" Arya shouted in her ear. "You're the best sister _ever_!"

"I'm your only sister ever!" Sansa said, laughing, but she hugged her sister back all the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Frustration is a move that does more damage the less your Pokemon likes you, and Return does more damage the more your Pokemon loves you. Return has the potential to be stronger than Frustration.
> 
> Totally random and irrelevant details: Joffrey's Raticate knows Roar. He bought a TM specifically to make it easier to run away from wild Pokemon. And his Stantler knows Hypnosis and Dream Eater, because he wanted it to eat the dreams of other people's Pokemon.
> 
> Next chapter, a brief stop in Highgarden so Jon can talk to Margaery while Arya and Sansa decide where to go next.
> 
> .
> 
> Here's a list of all the Pokemon each of the Starks has (including Jon, Lyanna, and Benjen, even though they're not actually Starks in this AU):
> 
> Arya: Espeon, Frogadier, Arcanine, Pikachu. She’ll get two more before the story is over.
> 
> Sansa: Sylveon, Prinlup, Vulpix, Bayleef. She’ll get two more before the story is over.
> 
> Jon: Umbreon, Murkrow, Weavile, Kingdra, Charmeleon, Doublade.
> 
> Robb: Jolteon, Totodile, Poliwrath, Ludicolo, Cloyster, Chinchou. 
> 
> Bran and Rickon are too young to go out and catch Pokemon, but their Eevees will evolve before the story is over (Summer into a Leafeon and Shaggydog into a Flareon) and there will be blatant hints as to what kind of Pokemon they'll have when they're older.
> 
> Cat: Vaporeon, Starmie, Quagsire, Gyarados, Aerodactyl.
> 
> Ned: Glaceon, Beartic, Walrein, Delibird, Lapras. 
> 
> Lyanna: Eevee, Avalugg, Feraligatr, Pidgeot, Tyrantrum. 
> 
> Benjen: Eevee, Dewgong, Mandibuzz, Gengar, Bisharp.
> 
> The selection for ice types is pretty limited... Poor Lyanna ended up with a literal chunk of ice because the other options were, like, an ice cream cone or an ice tree that has a weakness to 7 different types.


	8. Trust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why do these chapters keep getting longer and longer. Why am I trying to pretend this fic has a plot beyond 'Arya beats up gym leaders while Sansa and Jon fall in love and make goo-goo eyes at each other.' Why.

“Forgive me, Ms. Tyrell, but it seems a poor choice, investing in a fight against a mere children’s tale.”

Jon didn’t think he’d ever wanted to strangle someone so much in his life. Things had been going so well before Petyr Baelish had waltzed in like he owned the place.

"The Reach more than just grass types. It's also full of poison type Pokemon and trainers of those Pokemon," Commander Mormont had told him. "You’ve seen for yourself, these creatures are weak only to poison and steel. We _need_ the Tyrells."

And Jon almost had them, but now here was Littlefinger, once again ruining his day. _At the Eyrie, he at least pretended to believe me, but he and Lysa still said they couldn’t help,_ Jon recalled. _Now he’s saying he doesn’t even believe a threat exists! This guy is a sack of bullshit!_

What had Arya and Sansa said about him? That he was creepy. That his smile was off. That his poison types were probably rubbing off on him. Jon thought it was far more likely to be the other way around. He hadn’t seen it when he first met Baelish, but now any poison type he could think of suddenly seemed like purity incarnate in comparison to the man before him.

Margaery Tyrell was the one who had invited Littlefinger to this meeting in the first place, and she responded to him now before Jon could. “Thank you for your advice, Mr. Baelish.” She smiled at him graciously, and he smiled back. “You’re dismissed.”

Baelish’s smile slipped. “Ms. Tyrell—”

“I understand that my grandmother has had dealings with you in the past,” she interrupted him, “but while we’re willing to shelter you here in Highgarden now that you’ve been cast out of the Vale, I’m afraid that will be the extent of our relationship going forward. Thank you for your advice. You’re _dismissed_.”

He nodded to her, managed to quirk his lips into a grimace, and left. Jon watched him go with an enormous amount of satisfaction, as well as some curiosity. _Past dealings with the Tyrells? Cast out of the Vale?_ Now wasn’t the time to indulge that curiosity.

“I’m terribly sorry for that, Jon,” Margaery said, and Jon turned to look at her, confused. “My grandmother suggested I invite him to this meeting and listen to what he had to say.”

“She values his opinion?” He tried not to sound like he was being judgy. Even though he was. Extremely.

Margaery smirked. “She said it was very important that I hear him out…and then seriously consider doing the opposite of whatever he advised.”

“Oh,” Jon said in surprise.

“Yes, _oh_ ,” she said. He wondered if he should be offended by her obvious amusement, but decided that it didn’t matter as long as she helped. “Let’s hammer out the details so we can move on to more pleasant things. Maybe over dinner? I haven’t seen you in years, and while I know Robb no longer travels with you, I’ve heard that his sisters do? They’re more than welcome to join us. I’m really looking forward to seeing Sansa again.”

Something in his expression right then seemed to amuse her even further. “She’s _delightful_ company, I’m sure you’ll agree.”

“Absolutely,” Jon said, and told himself very firmly that he wasn’t allowed to pout. _As long as she helps._ “Now, about those details…”

* * *

“Wait, run that by me again. He _poisoned_ our cousin?” Arya asked, incredulous.

Margaery took a sip of her wine before answering, “Yes, apparently Petyr had been using venom from his Arbok along with fumes from his Weezing to make little Robert sick. Presumably so he would have less competitors for Gym Leader of the Vale.”

“Fewer,” Jon blurted out. When the girls all turned to look at him, he clarified, “It should be _fewer_ competitors. Not less.”

They continued to stare, and Jon wished he’d just kept his mouth shut. “Sorry, Stannis Baratheon visited the Wall last year and he’s a little strict about grammar. Guess it stuck with me.”

Arya rolled her eyes, but Sansa thankfully didn’t seem too exasperated when she said, “I see.” She even smiled at him.

Then she turned back to Margaery. “I knew Sweetrobin was ill! They all insisted he was fine, but he was so pale all the time and he had a seizure after Arya defeated his Fletchling and his Ducklett. And it explains why his mother was so furious when she saw that he’d been battling.”

“She must’ve been twice as furious when she found out what Littlefinger was doing to her son,” Arya said, looking pretty angry herself as she stabbed her steak with a fork. “I’m surprised she let him leave. Mom would’ve killed him, or at least locked him up for, like, the rest of eternity.”

“She let her Swanna loose on him, and it probably _would_ have killed him if he hadn’t managed to get away,” Margaery informed them.

She seemed to find the whole thing mildly entertaining, and Jon frowned at her. “Why are you guys sheltering him here after what he did?”

Sansa had looked pleased to hear about Littlefinger’s near death experience, but upon realizing her friend was harboring a man who had done serious harm to her cousin, her expression changed to one of shock and horror.

“Margaery…” she began, but couldn’t seem to continue. She stared down at her plate, looking so betrayed that Jon felt bad for bringing it up. _She would’ve put it together on her own, though, and if her friend isn’t trustworthy, she’s better off knowing that sooner rather than later._ It didn’t make him feel any better. Probably didn’t make her feel any better, either.

“Oh, we’re not _actually_ sheltering him,” Margaery assured them quickly. “We just want him to think we are. The police are collecting evidence against him, and they should be arresting him soon. He’ll be in prison by the end of the summer, I guarantee it.”

“Good,” Arya said viciously, while Sansa seemed relieved beyond words.

They switched to lighter topics for the rest of dinner, but Jon noticed that Sansa seemed a little wary of her friend for a while and focused more on her meal than the conversation. Eventually her reserve melted away, and she was talking and laughing with Margaery in a way that had Jon and Arya making excuses to leave the table.

 _Margaery and Robb flirted like this, too._ Jon had found it funny and a little exasperating. When it was Margaery and _Sansa_ , though…

“Do you think she’ll want to stay here?” he asked Arya as they made their way to the rooms the Tyrells had lent them for their stay. Apparently his brain-to-mouth filter wasn’t working tonight.

Arya glared at him. “What, do _you_ think we couldn’t survive the rest of our journey without her, or something?”

“No, of course not,” he said, and it was true. Practical concerns were the furthest thing from his mind at the moment. “Just…”

She studied his expression so intently that it unnerved him, before finally saying, “She’s not gonna stay here. She agreed to go all the way to the Pokemon League with me, and I know we fight a lot, but I trust her to see that through.”

“Of course, I didn’t mean to suggest—”

“As for whether or not she _wants_ to stay here,” Arya continued as if he hadn’t spoken, “I can’t answer that for sure. I’m not a mind reader. But anyone with eyes could see that she thought your stupid grammar lesson was cute, and if that doesn’t tell you everything you need to know, then you’re more of an idiot than I ever thought possible and there is literally no hope for you.”

They’d reached her room. She opened the door, stepped through it, and slammed it shut behind her without so much as a goodnight. Jon was left standing there with a flush creeping up his neck, trying to fight back a grin and failing.

* * *

Right before they left the next morning, Margaery asked Sansa, “Are you sure you don’t want to stay, at least for a day or two? I promise not to let Baelish anywhere near you.”

Something about the way she said it, dropping her coy tone for a serious one, had Jon wondering if there was more to the story of the sisters’ visit to the Eyrie than they’d told him. Specifically where Littlefinger was concerned.

“I’m sure,” Sansa said, and for some reason Margaery glanced at Jon and pouted. Sansa didn’t seem to notice. “Email me when he’s arrested, though.”

“Take a picture of him behind bars, I want to point and laugh,” Arya added.

“Will do,” Margaery said to them both. She looked at Jon again, no longer pouting. “Pass my message along to Commander Mormont.”

Ignoring the curious looks from his travelling companions, Jon said, “I will. Thanks for everything.”

They said goodbye and left. It was only once they reached the city gates that Jon realized he didn’t know where they were headed next.

“Where to, boss?” he teased Arya, but instead of rolling her eyes or shoving him, she scowled at her sister. _Shit, they were arguing about that the whole time I was with Margaery, weren’t they?_

“I don’t know, Jon. We _could_ go east to the Stormlands and _then_ south to Dorne and _then_ go back north again, _if_ we want be travelling until we’re old and gray, _or_ we could—”

“—go south to Dorne first, only for you to get your butt kicked because you tried to earn the badges _out of order_ and the seventh Gym Leader turned out to be _too difficult_ for you,” Sansa shot back. “And _then_ we have to head back north to the Stormlands, go back south again to Dorne, and then go north _again_ —”

Arya only seemed to hear a very specific fraction of her sister’s retort. “Too difficult for me? TOO DIFFICULT FOR ME? Who died and made you the expert on Gym Leader difficulty? In case you forgot how to count, I’ve got _five_ badges while _you_ only have one! Maybe _one_ of us sucks at battling, but it’s definitely not _me_ —”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Jon intervened, potentially risking life and limb to prevent the fight from escalating further. “No one’s saying you suck at battling, Arya. Right, Sansa?”

Sansa looked furious, but she still said, “Of _course_ I wouldn’t say you sucked at battling. Why would I ever say that when I’ve seen you fight like a million times before?”

Even though Sansa’s tone heavily implied that she thought her sister was being ridiculous, her words calmed Arya down.

“Well, you said you don’t think I could take down Martell!” she said, not quite done being outraged yet.

“What I _think_ is that there’s probably a reason trainers are encouraged to face her _after_ Stannis Baratheon and not before.” Sansa swallowed her pride and continued, “I’m sorry I phrased it in a way that made it seem like I don't believe you could win. I just think it would be better to get the badges in order.”

For a second Arya looked like she didn’t know what to do with that apology, but when Jon nudged her, she said, “Thanks. I’m sorry, too, I don’t really think you suck at battling.”

Jon held back a sigh of relief. _Now Arya just needs to pick who she’s going to face next._

As if she’d heard the thought, Arya said, “I still don’t want to go to Storm’s End just yet. We’re so close to Starfall, it just seems pointless to backtrack.”

“Starfall?” Jon asked, startled. “I didn’t know Dorne’s gym was in that city.” Dorne was so far south from both Winterfell and the Wall that Jon had never paid much attention to it, even when he’d started off on his journey to collect badges with Robb. Even for the mission he was on right now, he hadn’t done any research on the region. He’d figured he would just consult a map or ask someone for directions when the time came.

“We thought it was in Sunspear, but this map we bought says otherwise,” Arya said, pulling the map in question out of her bag and handing it to him.

When he glanced over it, he found Starfall marked with a little castle, indicating that a gym was there.

“They must’ve changed it recently, it was definitely in Sunspear before,” Sansa insisted.

That made sense. Looking at the map, Jon could see that Sunspear was far closer to Storm’s End than Starfall was, a much shorter distance for trainers to travel. Just earn the Storm badge, then sail across the Sea of Dorne to face the next gym. Maybe… “Where did you guys get this map?”

“I know what you’re thinking, but we didn’t buy it from someone really shady, we’re not stupid,” Arya said, a little offended.

Sansa backed her up by adding, “We got it from a place Margaery and her family frequent. The Tyrells trust the vendor, so can I’m sure we can, too.”

Jon almost replied that the Tyrells seemed plenty shady themselves, but then thought better of it. Margaery _was_ a Gym Leader, and her grandmother had been the Gym Leader before that. Surely they shopped at respectable and reliable establishments that would never sell their customers maps with false information printed on them.

“Well, if that’s where you want to go, I’m on board,” he told Arya.

She smiled. “Even if we have to go through the Red Mountains?”

“Even then. Besides, it’s not that far. We’ll be there in no time!” Jon guaranteed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In regards to the whole Night Watch's business, I might accidentally be making it look like I'm actually building up to something big, but it's totally just going to be really anticlimatic, so... Fair warning.
> 
> Next chapter, they make their way through the Red Mountains, Arya and Sansa each get a new team member, and Arya has to put up with shameless ogling between her sister and Jon.


	9. Desert

The map was a _liar_.

When she said this out loud, Sansa tiredly reminded her that the map was, in fact, an inanimate object incapable of purposely deceiving them. Arya didn’t care. The map was a liar, the couple who had sold it to them were liars, and the Tyrells were liars, too, for leading them to believe that store was anything other than shady as hell.

 _I could use some shade right now._ The thought had crossed her mind about a half a dozen times since they’d left Starfall. They’d searched the city almost top to bottom, only to be informed by some boy and his aunts that Dorne’s gym actually _was_ in Sunspear, after all.

“We’ve had a few tourists show up here looking for the gym,” the boy had said. “They always say they’ve come from Highgarden, and they all show us that same map. Not many trainers though. Most of them already know where the gyms are.”

His aunts had smiled at Arya and her companions apologetically. Arya had glared at the boy and only an elbow in the side from her sister had kept her from sulkily insisting that they _had_ known where the gym was, thank you very much, but the map had _tricked_ them. Just as well, Arya supposed. As annoyed as she’d been, even she could admit that he’d seemed like he genuinely wanted to be helpful and had insulted them entirely by accident.

Afterwards, they’d had to decide what to do next.

“We could go back the Highgarden, and follow the road to the Stormlands,” Jon had suggested. “Then after you beat Stannis, we can just take a boat to Sunspear. Or even surf there with our water Pokemon, I’ve heard the sea is calm enough.”

Sansa had agreed immediately. “Now that Frogadier and Prinplup have evolved, they can handle the distance. And on the way back north we could dive to see the coral reefs.”

They’d both seemed decided, but Arya had set her mouth in a stubborn line and said, “I don’t want to backtrack. We’re already in Dorne, let’s just head to the gym so I can face Arianne Martell and then we can see your coral reefs on the way to Storm’s End.”

“You’d rather spend a week crossing leagues and leagues of _blazing hot desert_ than backtrack?” Sansa had asked, incredulous.

“It wouldn’t take us that long, I’m not suggesting we travel _on_ _foot_! What do you think I am, some kind of masochistic sadist?” Arya had sounded more offended than she’d actually been. “I was thinking we could find that group those ladies told us about. The Sand Snakes? That kid’s aunts said they give people rides across the desert on their Pokemon, they could take us to Sunspear.”

At that, Sansa had wavered. “Allyria _did_ say that they cut the trip in half, and that they charged reasonable prices…and Ashara said they’d be in Sandstone for a couple more days, so we have enough time to catch up to them…”

“What about your Pikachu?” Jon had asked, not yet sold on the plan. “It’s already been out in the heat for a few days. At best, we’ll reach Sunspear in another four. Nymeria, Ghost and Lady can handle that, but Pikachu—”

“Pikachu will stay in its Poke Ball until we get there,” Arya had replied, throwing the Pikachu in question a stern look even as it clung to her leg. Then she’d turned that look on her Espeon. “We’ll only be apart for a few days, so no one’s going to be fussy about it, _right_? Pikachu’s health is more important, isn’t it, Nymeria?”

Nymeria had whined and nuzzled Pikachu, but ultimately, she’d nodded at her trainer in agreement.

“There you go, Jon,” Arya had exclaimed triumphantly, and he’d given in.

Now she was almost regretting that choice. They hadn’t even reached the open desert yet and she was already soaked in sweat. Whenever she thought of mountains she pictured snow-capped peaks, and she’d known Dorne’s would be different, but _still_.

It was so hot that Sansa had insisted Lady go into her Poke Ball for once and Jon had taken his shirt off—after asking for their permission, the weirdo.  Meanwhile, Arya found herself constantly reaching into her bag for a spray bottle Septa Mordane had given her years ago. The Septa had intended Arya to use it as a tool for her Pokemon-rearing method of choice: negative reinforcement. Your Pokemon disobeys you, spray it with water. It piddles on the carpet? Chews up the couch cushions? Uses the wrong move in battle? Spray it.

Arya had tossed the bottle into her closet at the first opportunity, and she wasn’t quite sure why she’d decided to bring it along on this journey. _I think I wanted to use it for medicine?_ It was filled with water at the moment, and Arya was indeed spraying Nymeria with it, just as Septa Mordane had wanted. Arya was also spraying _herself_ with the bottle, for the same reason she was spraying her Espeon: it was fucking hot out, and the small spurt of cool water was refreshing.

“I think I can see the cave entrance coming up,” Jon said suddenly, hand held up to his face to shade his eyes from the sun’s glare.

Arya squinted in the direction he was pointing, and saw it too. _Finally!_ It would be a lot cooler inside the cave, and there were no more mountains on the other side. _No mountains, just open desert… Great. Well, I’ll just try not to think about that._

She turned to her sister to ask her some inane question about Lyanna’s latest fantasy novel, confident that the resulting fangirling would provide a decent distraction, but Sansa looked plenty distracted herself.

 _No way._ Sansa had her lower lip caught between her teeth, and her eyes raked over Jon’s naked torso slowly. _No. Fucking. Way. I didn’t sign up for this!_

Innocent flirting was one thing. Sappy words, besotted glances, hand-holding—whatever. Arya had even managed to brace herself for the inevitable lovey-dovey pet names. But _this_? This was not happening, not on Arya’s watch.

 _There’s only one thing for it,_ she thought, and reached into her bag.

* * *

“Jon, could you please inform my sister that the peanut butter cookies are in the bottom-left pocket of her bag?”

Two hours later and halfway through the cave, Sansa still wasn’t talking to her. She’d even resorted to using Jon as a go-between, as if they were still in middle school or something.

Jon sighed, but nevertheless repeated, “Arya, Sansa would like me to inform you that—”

“Yeah, I _heard_ her,” Arya interrupted, glaring at her sister’s back. “You can tell her I said thanks, and I’d be happy to pass her a cookie when she’s done being _a giant baby_.”

Sansa’s hand clenched around the flashlight she was using to light up the cave, but she didn’t turn around, just kept marching forward.

Arya shrugged her shoulders at Jon and said, “More for us, I guess.”

He shot her a disapproving look in return, but it wasn’t _her_ fault Sansa couldn’t just let it go. Lady already had. Sansa had let her Sylveon out as soon as they were away from the sun’s rays, and Lady had ignored Nymeria for a whole twenty minutes out of solidarity before giving in and joining her siblings in their frolicking.

“You sprayed her with water over and over like she was a misbehaving Pokemon,” Jon said, not so easily deterred. “Of course she’s pissed off at you.”

“It’s refreshing, I thought she would appreciate it.” When her sister scoffed loudly, Arya moved in for the kill. “Since she looked _so thirsty_ at the time.”

 _Aha!_ Sansa had her hair up in a ponytail, so Arya could see the back of her neck turn red. _That’ll teach her! There will be no bedroom eyes while in the presence of Arya Stark!_

Jon, of course, was totally oblivious. Literally _anything_ besides outright stating that Sansa had been checking him out would’ve been too subtle for Jon Snow.

“If she was thirsty, why didn’t you just give her something to drink?” he asked.  

The sisters sighed in unison, Arya out of exasperation, Sansa out of relief…and exasperation.

“Never mind, Jon,” Sansa said, finally turning around. Her face was still red, and Arya felt a little bad.

So she extended a peace offering. “Cookie?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

As Arya passed the cookies around, Jon had the nerve to smile proudly. Whether he was proud of _them_ for putting aside their argument or _himself_ for mediating between them, Arya wasn’t sure.

At least he’d put his shirt back on.

* * *

The exit was just barely in sight when two Pokemon jumped out at them, blocking their path. Arya couldn’t even work up the energy to be irritated. They’d been walking for most of the day, first in the heat and then in this dank and smelly cave, and she was _exhausted_.

“Just go away,” she moaned. Neither of the Pokemon moved, not that she’d really expected anything different. But they also didn’t attack. They just stood there, staring. “ _Fiiine_.”

Nymeria was tired, too, so Arya reached for the Poke Ball at her belt that she thought housed her Greninja. She threw it blindly, and when it hit one of the creatures it caught the thing.

Arya blinked. “Oops. I guess the ball was empty…”

“I guess so,” Sansa said. She was kind enough to refrain from laughing, or maybe just too tired. “And now you have a Gabite.”

“Ohh.” Arya had heard the name before. It was a ground/dragon type, stage two, but she couldn’t remember what its final form was. “You should catch the other one, Sansa.”

Not that she knew what the other one was. Still, Sansa had room for two more team members, so she might as well.

“A Shelgon?” She wrinkled her nose. “What does that evolve into, again?”

Jon shrugged his shoulders carelessly. “Who knows? I think it _wants_ you to catch it, though. Can’t say I blame it, I wouldn’t want to live in this cave, either.”

“Really? Well, okay.” She threw a Poke Ball, and Jon must’ve been right because the Shelgon didn’t resist capture at all.

Obstacles removed, Arya stared at the cave exit that would lead them back into the scorching hot sun. “So…how many hours is it to Sandstone from here?” 

“Too many, so we better start walking,” was the only answer Sansa had, and Arya and Jon both groaned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As soon as that Shelgon evolves, they will have a flying Pokemon big enough to carry all three of them across long distances and all their travel problems will be solved. Also, Sansa will have a pseudo-legendary dragon monster that goes on rampages if you make it angry and shoots flames out of its mouth when when it's happy...but the flying part is what's really important.
> 
> Next chapter is Sansa's POV, they reach Sunspear and Arya faces Arianne Martell.


End file.
